


She Will Be Loved

by RamblingPug



Category: Free!
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, So much angst, and some nsfw, gouallout, kisugou, makogou, makoharu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-20 07:11:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3641352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RamblingPug/pseuds/RamblingPug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Gou first runs into Kisumi, she instinctively hates him. He is too bold, too flirtatious, too… arrogant. But unexpectedly, their friendship grows stronger and she discovers that they share a deeper understanding, that they are partners in a darker sin… Of coveting a heart that they can never truly attain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for gouallout day 7.

**Prompt : Partners in Crime(in sin more like)**

“A boyfriend?!” she asks, incredulously. “W-Well, I haven’t really thought about it..”

Her friend huffs impatiently, no doubt irritated with the redhead’s feigned innocence. “Come on, Kou. There’s no point pretending like you haven’t ever thought about it.”

“I…” she toys with a strand of her carmine hair, too intimidated by her friend’s questioning gaze to answer. If only she knew how  _much_ Gou had thought about it.

“Are you gay? Because that’s okay too. In fact Akane-chan, from class 2 is into girls too. I could,” –

“Hana-chan,” she says, despairing because if she hadn’t clamped a hand over the brunette’s mouth she would’ve gone on  _forever._ “I’m  _not_ gay. I like boys. Muscle obsession, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” Chigusa says, grinning. Who could ever forget Gou’s love for muscles? “Okay, so tell me,” she pulls back to her initial question. “There’s got to be  _some_ guy you like. I mean, you hang out with those super-hot swimming hunks all the time.”

Hunks though they were, there was only one boy on whom Gou’s gaze would linger for more time than was professionally necessary. There was only one boy whom she stared at shamelessly, when he flipped his hair dripping wet as he pulled himself out of the pool.

Yes, for Matsuoka Gou, she may be surrounded by some of the most fabulous men in the school… but there was only one boy, the very sight of whom would make her literally weak at the knees.

She sighs, the very thought of him bringing stars to her eyes. “Makoto-senpai…”

..

She grabs her water bottle, drinking the water greedily like she’s just made it out of the Sahara. Gymming was an awful, torturous new hobby of hers and there isn’t a single moment when she _doesn’t_ think ‘Fuck the membership, I don’t need this shit,’ but she labours on.

No pain, no gain, she tells herself. And the gain _could_ be immense, especially if she gets to wear her new bikini when they go to the beach next month. She’d invite him along casually, as if she hadn’t given it a second thought and he would obviously come along. She knows Makoto-senpai is too kind, too considerate to actually turn someone’s invitation down.

She starts to wonder if she’s being bitchy, taking advantage of his niceness this way, as she does her last few stretches before she begins her run home.

“Gou-chan?” An unfamiliar voice calls interrupting her precious daydreams. She turns to find the new guy at the gym, waving at her smilingly, making his way to her. She’s seen this guy. Judging by all the excited whispers of her fellow muscle enthusiasts, he had just joined this week. He was the same guy who had been making heads turn all evening. And he was talking to _her._

She feels the familiar thrill of being approached by a _very, very_ attractive guy and she runs a finger through her hair, trying to make it look just a little bit less messy.

But wait, how does he know her _name_?

“I'm sorry,” she says politely, “I'm not able to”-

“Not able to place me?” He asks, grinning. “Don't worry, Gou-chan. I've seen you before. Rin’s little sister right?”

She nods, even though the boy in front of her, breathtakingly gorgeous though he may be, makes her just a teensy bit uncomfortable. Maybe it's just the fact that he seems to know her and she can’t, for the love of god, remember his name.

“Not so little anymore I see.” His eyes twinkle, turning towards her chest for the barest second and he winks.

She gasps. _Surely he doesn’t mean…_

She’s more than a little shocked. It was the first time she’s ever meeting him and his boldness was already bordering rude.

“I've seen you,” he says with the same confidence that she's always wished she had, “with Makoto and Haru and the other boys.”

“I'm their manager,” she says and it sounds like a justification even to herself, although she knows there's no need to. She doesn't even know him after all. It's just that there's something in his voice, in his eyes, as though he's always hinting at _something_ , behind that cocky-ass grin of his.

“I see,” he hums, still with that smug smile of his, and she just wants to reach up and wipe it straight off his face. Although she has to admit it looks pretty damn fine on him. It gives him a dangerous, flirtatious look despite the pink-tinged softness of his locks.

But that isn't the only thing dangerous about this guy, because his eyes darken suddenly, lips curving into mockery. “I've also seen the way you look at Makoto.”

She blushes, feeling strangely exposed under the darkness of his questioning gaze, as if her looking at Makoto-senpai was something forbidden, criminal even. 

Get a hold of yourself, Kou, she tells herself sternly, because some random stranger has no right to make inappropriate comments on her personal life.

For the first time since the beginning of this incredibly awkward acquaintance, she looks into his eyes, levelling them with her best version of a you-should-probably-just-fuck-off glare.

“Well,” she says, tightening her laces and plugging her earphones in, just as she is about to leave, “Surely that's none of your business.”

..

It turns out her new gym buddy isn’t always so unpleasant, after all. The next time he sees her, he’s far more forthcoming and he tells her that her brother and he were classmates back in Junior High. He’s talkative and funny and Gou warms up to him sooner than she would have liked.

If his behaviour was any indication, he rather liked the attention he received, the anonymous love letters he received in his changing locker and the flustered blushing when he winked at his female admirers. “Kisumi?” she asks curiously when he first tells her his name. Another girly name, she thinks with a smile.

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he had said and dropped an unsuspecting kiss on her lips, that had left her shocked and her female gym companions furious with jealousy for _days._ But when she thought about it, his utter lack of shamelessness and and undeniable flirtatious charm, she couldn’t stay angry with him for more than a day.

“You want to come watch our joint practice tomorrow?” she asks him, a few weeks later, when hanging out with Kisumi had become a daily routine that she enjoyed thoroughly. He asks her about Makoto and Haru, the former especially and talks about him with a fondness she could relate to completely. “It’s a good excuse to visit _him_ ,” she teases, harbouring a sneaking suspicion that Kisumi’s affection for Makoto was not as simple as he makes it out to be.

Having agreead, he reaches Samezuka the next day, as fashionably late as ever, hair tousled lazily, tie hanging loose from his neck. “Haru,” he calls loudly, with absolutely no regard for swimming pool decorum. Haru just turns away, annoyed, and dives into the pool.

“Kisumi,” Makoto calls, surpised, his eyes crinkling in a way that it does when he’s excited, little green bursts of happiness twinkling brightly. “What’re you doing here?”

He points at Gou and she blushes a little, subconsciously, just as she always does when Makoto smiles at her. “She said I could come watch.”

“You gotta love these things,” he says cheekily, giving Makoto’s hard, muscled bottom a light spank. “ _Very_ form-fitting.”

_“Kisumi,”_ he stresses, embarrassed, looking quickly around to make sure no one’s noticed the pink-head’s playfulness or his humiliating _yelp_ in response.

“I can’t believe you _spanked_ him,” she complains, when Kisumi joins her a few moments later after his chat with Makoto. He just grins in response, having enjoyed it far too much to apologize for his actions. “That. Is. So. Unfair.”

“Then maybe you should tell him how you feel?” He asks her pointedly. “Then you could do anything you want to him.”

Her cheeks burn at the shameless thoughts that flood her mind. _Anything she wants, huh?_ Shaking her head out of her illicit thoughts, she redirects her attention towards Kisumi. “You’re late,” she tells him accusingly and upon closer observation, it becomes obvious why. To eyes so well-trained for accurate detail, Gou could easily identify that his buttons were buttoned all wrong, clearly thrown on in a haste.

“You’re disgusting,” she chides, shaking her head in disapproval, reaching to redo his buttons. Upon removing the top one she can just about make out a faint outline of cherry red lip gloss, perfectly shaped into lips. She sighs, “One would think you’d be able to control yourself atleast when you’re coming to meet your precious Makoto.”

He captures her wrist, effectively stalling her motions, and bending low enough to whisper in her ear. “Well he’s not just _my_ precious Makoto, is he?”

..

Graduation has come and passed, tears and goodbyes ceremoniously dispelled with and at Nagisa’s behest they’ve decided to spend their last night together at a club, getting emotional and drinking themselves silly.

“Wear heels, Gou-chan,” was Nagisa’s enthusiastic solution when Gou presented the not-so- _tiny_ problem of underage drinking.

So she had decided, that if she was going to go and make a complete, utter fool of herself at a club, she would at least invite Kisumi to come watch. Besides, he was leaving too and as much as Gou hated the guy the first time she met him, she had to admit she was a teensy bit sad that one of her best friends was moving away.

“Well, how is our beloved Mako-chan? Still completely oblivious to his fans?”

She knew that was a pointed question, not that he cared about Makoto’s fans in general, he was asking her how _her_ progress was, whether her efforts for her beloved senpai had borne any fruit at all. She knows he is just egging her on, teasing her as he always does, and for this reason alone she _really_ wishes she hadn’t invited him at all.

She looks over at the tall, gentle hunk of a man whom she has loved ever since she stepped into this school two years ago. He is caught between a hyper Nagisa and a stubborn Haru arguing about something as frivolous as dancing. Evidently Nagisa’s powers of persuasion – or blackmail – are not to be taken lightly because Haru, albeit grudgingly, follows him a minute later. A small look passes between Makoto and Haru, a gentle one from Makoto’s side, because he’s all Gou ever looks at, a shy smile encouraging Haru to rock it out there. A wave of jealousy, tidal and ferocious, passes through her when she sees that smile because all she wants to do is steal it from Haru and keep it to herself.

But how much ever she wills Makoto to look at her, she knows he won't, that when it came to his heart, it wasn't just a losing battle, there had never been any chance for her, ever.

“Haru, you lucky bastard,” he murmurs from beside her and for the first time, Gou is compelled to agree, an irrational bout of hate springing from the very depths of her heart. She follows Kisumi’s gaze and she sees that he is looking exactly where she was, at Makoto, at Makoto’s eyes firmly fixed on Haru who is dancing awkwardly in the crowd.

“It's always been him, hasn't it?” He asks softly, to no one in particular, the weight of the most obvious truth pressing him down on to the ground, like a boulder, breaking him.

It's almost like he's taken the words out of her mouth, because she feels his pain, exactly likes she feels her own, crushing and disappointing. She takes his hand in hers, without thinking, tracing small, soothing circles into his palm.

He laces his fingers into hers, regaining his composure and taking a heavy gulp of his drink. “Oh well,” he says, the smile back on his face, sparkling again, but by this time she's learnt to see the cracks he hides so well. “I get jealous pretty easily, huh?”

She turns back to her Cosmo, sipping it less delicately than a lady should. “Honestly, I wouldn't blame you.”

“It's true though, I got jealous of even you at first, and you're in just as pathetic of a situation as I am.”

She doesn't really get why, it's not that she isn't aware of how _pathetic_ her situation really is, being in love with a boy who will never even look at anyone apart from his best friend. It's probably just the copious amounts of alcohol she's consumed, but hearing it from the mouth of someone else makes it seem too harsh, unchangeable, and _cruel_.

An intense anger wells up in her, surging irrationally and she empties her drink in a single gulp. “My situation is not that bad,” she defends, but even she knows it's a lie.

He laughs, loudly, a mocking note that makes Gou’s cheeks burn a little.

“Is that so, Gou-chan?” His eyes narrow at her, head tilting coquettishly. “I'm sure that's why you're sitting here wearing this slinky excuse for a top – in which you're breasts look amazing, by the way – and hoping, praying that he will speak more than two words to you this evening.”

He could've slapped her and it would have hurt less.

She looks to her left, at Makoto’s spot now empty, now standing next to Haru, petting a hand through his dark hair murmuring words of comfort because he's had too much to drink. “Look at you,” he jeers, because apparently Kisumi is feeling quite merciless tonight, “Watching him, wishing his hands were on _you_ instead, touching _you_ instead of Haru.”

“You want him, Gou-chan,” he lilts, and there have never been words truer than Kisumi’s humiliating derision.

She can't bear to look at him, at the light haired, beautiful boy beside her, just as hopelessly heartbroken as she is, speaking the truth even he feels so keenly.

She's a little bit dizzy from the several drinks she's had and severely heartbroken. A lethal combination. She knows she should just wait for Rin to come and take her home. But she just wants to get back home, and strip out of the extra skinny jeans she's wearing – another pointless bid to look good for Makoto-senpai – get into the shower, and let the tears which have filled her so completely, flow without restraint.

“I'm leaving,” she mumbles angrily, staggering to her feet. Hastily, she fishes out the money and places it on the table. “Here, this is my share.”

“Oi,” he protests, because even though he knows he was being a _complete_ asshole, this was not the reaction he predicted.

He doesn't get a reply because she's already pushed her way through the crowd, heading towards the exit. He gets up to follow her, and he almost loses his footing, the alcohol having made him a little wobbly. “Makoto,” he starts to call, but he realises that Makoto’s too caught up in a completely shit-faced Haru and Nagisa is god-knows-where doing things with Rei that he _really_ doesn't want to see.

So he pushes past the crowd, focusing his hazy vision to find Gou. She should be easy enough to find, he thinks, especially with her bright, wild tresses flowing freely tonight.

He finds her eventually, leaning against the brick wall right outside the club, shut eyes squeezing large, uncontrollable teardrops.

“Hey,” he says, brushing her arm gently, awkwardly thinking up a way to apologise. His cleverness with words seem pretty useless here, so he decides to just go with the basics.

“I'm sorry.”  

The tears flow harder, growing into heaving, embarrassing sobs. Kisumi looks pointedly away from the slow movement of her chest, trying desperately not to be a typical teenage boy… And failing.

“Go away,” she mumbles, her voice small and childlike. “I hate you.” The words are out before she can even think it through. Yes, she thinks, not in the mood to apologise for her emotional outbursts, she could just blame everything on him. It was Kisumi's fault she was like this, drunk and hurting.

“I hate you.” It was his fault she was here, trying over and over again for a boy who would never look at her.

“I hate you,” she says brokenly, pounding her fists at his chest in frustration. It was his fault that she was out here sobbing like an idiot, because he didn't _have_ to enunciate so brutally, how pathetic she was.

“Shut up,” he says harshly, hands gripping around her wrists tightly, so tight it begins to hurt. “Stop crying.”

But she doesn't. She can't stop, not now when her heart feels so heavy, she can barely walk two steps without falling to the ground.

“Gou,” he says menacingly, almost like a warning, “stop crying.”

And she wants to listen to him, wants to stop and yell at him for being so _mean_ , but the words get caught in her throat, dissolving into tears.

A fury burns inside of him, seeing her like this, even though he knows he is to blame. It's not fair, he thinks, his eyes following the path of her tears, glistening across her porcelain cheeks.

She opens her eyes and looks at him, the sadness slowly consuming her, scarlet pools looking so bleak, he just can't take it anymore.

He knows that it is all manner of wrong, that there’s more alcohol than reason in their blood, but he looks at her, trying so hard to look desirable, crying _pretty_ , desperate tears of anguish and he does exactly what he _isn’t supposed to do._

He kisses her.

And it isn’t soft or comforting, it isn’t a kiss that is meant to soothe, it just simply _is._ His teeth tug on her lower lip, parting her lips for him, delving into her mouth with his tongue.

“You don’t get to cry, dammit,” he whispers hoarsely against her mouth, “you don’t get to have it that easy.”

It’s then that she realises he isn’t trying to hurt her, or take advantage of her, and that with every flick of his tongue he’s only trying to swallow his own tears, scorching them with the heat of his mouth and burning them dry.

He loosens his grip on her wrists, hands moving up to cup her face, drinking her in with a passion. It’s rough and so very demanding, she can do nothing more than just give in. Her hands fly up to his hair, tugging at his locks to slow down just a little bit, because she should’ve known. That he has known how it is to covet someone so hopelessly ever since he first learnt the meaning of love.

That for Kisumi this heartbreak is nothing new, it’s a simply a way of life. And he cannot cry. And he _cannot_ stop loving Makoto.

He’s been nurturing this despair for _years,_ without anyone to talk to, with no shoulder for him to cry on.

Would she be like this too? Loving him helplessly from the sidelines forever, hoping, wishing for a glance, a smile from his perfect mouth?

His hands reach into her shirt, stroking her lips lightly and making her shiver. His touch burns like heated metal, smooth and exacting. It is something she has never felt before, the first flicker of intimacy far beyond even her wildest dreams of large, strong hands pinning her down and devouring her with a passionate, verdant gaze.

It’s new and heady, the strangest kind of heat flowing into her and pooling in her belly.  

She kisses him back fully, winding into him closer, pressing against him and shamelessly drinking in the misplaced love that tortures them both.

Wrenching his lips from her, he looks into her delicate, scarlet eyes, wide and dazed and he really, really just wants to laugh at their situation. Resting his forehead on hers, his words graze her lips, sensitive and swollen from his abrasive kiss. “Just look at us, Gou. We’re so stupid. _I’m_ stupid,” –

She lifts a finger to his lips, effectively hushing his mindless derision. “Kisumi,” she says, tentatively, her ego so bruised, she’s almost _expecting_ rejection. It occurs to her that this is _Kisumi_ she’s dealing with, a compulsive flirt who has played around with more women than he could count and maybe even boys… She had no idea.

All she knows is that right now, she was looking into eyes the most beautiful shade of night, and that regardless of from where it stemmed, they were looking at her with the most desperate desire.  “Come home with me."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all Gou had ever imagined it to be, warm and comforting and so very perfect, being in her beloved Makoto-senpai's arms.  
> But it's hard to enjoy it, not when she feels like this, soiled, tainted by the memories of Kisumi's heated skin against hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to all those who left kudos or comments or bookmarked... or even just read. You guys rock. <3

Warning : This chapter contains sexual situations a.k.a  _smut._ I, personally am  _very_ fond of this genre but for those of you who aren't… Well, I did warn you.

* * *

For as long as Kisumi can remember, he's always gotten everything he ever wanted. He had learnt early on that if you smiled the right way or looked sorry enough, you could bend even the most rigid people in your direction.

He remembers his first kiss, in his school playground and a little girl, his classmate, he thinks, most probably, but he can't even remember her name. Only two sweet, caramel pigtails. It was innocent back then, just two kids wandering into territory they should've just left alone, something straight out of the movies, nothing like the pleasure he has learnt over time of course, but he remembers her eyes closed, and the sharp intake of her breath as he closed his lips over hers. It's funny, he thinks, it was  _his_ idea,  _he_ was the one who stole the kiss from her, but every shy glance from her side from that day onward only begged him to do it again.

It wasn't until middle-school when he transferred to Iwatobi that he met the first person to ever show resistance to his charm.

Nanase Haruka was sullen, stubborn and everything Kisumi wasn't. He was amused at first, because despite his tendency to manipulate, he liked making new friends and the quiet boy who sat in front of him was surely interesting.

He learnt that Haruka wasn't too fond of expressing himself or speech in general, the hard way, after being ignored thoroughly despite his constant efforts to strike up conversation. At least not unless it concerned his best friend whom Kisumi met at lunch.

"Makoto," he had said, clearly ignoring Kisumi standing behind him, "Let's go to the terrace and have lunch."

"Aren't you going to invite your new friend, Haru?" The boy said, smiling warmly at Kisumi and he wants to tell him that he doesn't need to be invited, that he would have come along anyway, but his throat turns dry, when he  _actually_ gets a good look at him.

While Kisumi can do nothing more than just gape, Haruka narrows his eyes at him. "He's not my friend," he says bluntly and heads up the stairs.

"Ahhh," the other boy says, Makoto, as Haruka had called him, "Haru-chan can be a little shy sometimes. I'm sorry."

 _Don't apologize,_  Kisumi thinks,  _someone as beautiful as you should never have to apologize,_ but he's doing the thing again where he's just thinking but not saying.

"Follow me," Makoto says, holding out not only his hand, but also the most blinding smile, "I'll take you to our special lunch spot."

"Okay," Kisumi mumbles, and he thinks he would just gladly follow Makoto forever.

..

Things had gotten to a point where even her brother had noticed something was wrong.

"Are you saying no?" he asks in disbelief. "It's  _ice-cream_ , Gou." Rin couldn't remember the last time his sister had ever resisted strawberry ice cream.

In fact, he was having a tough time believing that the girl in front of him was his sister at all. Sure, she  _looked_ the same, lounging around the house in shorts and his t-shirt, but there was no smile on her face, no sparkle in her eyes… no  _life_ , in short, and it was beginning to worry him.

"We could go to your favourite parlour by the beach," –

"I'm just not in the mood," she snaps and before the words are out of her mouth she feels guilty for taking her frustration out on a man who isn't even a part of it. She sighs. "I'm sorry, onii-chan, I just" - she yelps in surprise - "What are you doing?!  _Put me down_!"

By the time they're out of the house, she's laughing at how ridiculous this whole thing is, her scooped upside down on her brother's shoulder – she  _did_  of course take a moment to admire how he lifted her up so easily, like she was made of nothing – being dragged out of her house, despite her complaints. "Okay, okay I'll walk," she consents, mortified when a classmate spots her in this position. "People are  _looking_ , onii-chan!"

..

Later when they're just sitting on the sand, watching the sun dip into the water and paint it red, and it's been so long since they've done this, sitting around with no one but each other, in peace. "I know I'm hardly ever around, Gou," he starts sadly. "Onii-chan," she interrupts, her voice tinged with warning because how many times had she told him that there was no reason to feel guilty about this?

He pushes on. "And I'm not going to be either. Times like this are only going to get more infrequent."

She says nothing. For the first time she wants to laugh, loud, because it really is hilarious how all the men in her life were leaving at the same  _damn_ time. "I may be a real shitty brother," he says, shushing her before she protests, "but you can talk to me, you know."

He looks at her searchingly. "Tell me what's wrong, Gou."

She laughs and it's fake to even her own ears, forced, and she pats his leg playfully. "I don't know why you think something's  _wrong._ It's this new diet actually. I'm just trying to lose weight for the" –

"I'm not deaf," he says, angrily, "I can  _hear_ you crying at night." Well what did she expect? In housing as modest as theirs', sharing a room with her brother was more than just a little bit awkward at this age, it meant that every muffled sob and soft hiccup did not go unnoticed.

"Did someone hurt you?" His voice is dark as he asks this, threatening in a way that it hasn't been in years, not since he gave her kindergarten bullies a peace of his mind.

But she wasn't a crying little toddler who could go to her brother for every small muddle that she found herself in. So she gulps back her tears and says, voice wavering only  _slightly_ , "It's really nothing, onii-chan."

Because what would he able to do when it wasn't Kisumi who hurt her, or even Makoto, unknowingly, but she herself who dealt the most damage, the memory of each kiss and caress on that stuporous night like fresh salt on her wounds.

..

He's never done this, the fabled  _chase_ behind a woman, but he figures if there were ever someone to change for, it would be her. He didn't know what it meant, why it felt so different, why each taste of her eager, desperate mouth,  _hurt_ him in a way that only left him craving more.

The word pining was something he reserved only for Makoto, but he couldn't deny this longing either. Every time she cut his call, it would only spur him to try again.

But as with all things, he eventually ran out of time and because text message was the last way he wanted to leave things, he wrote her an email.

**To : princess_kou**

**Subject : You're ignoring me, sweetheart.**

He smiles as he writes this because he knows she will make a face at his endearment.

_I've called you only a million times since last week and I know you've been receiving my text messages as well._

_Apologies don't come easy to me – you know this – but I'm an asshole and this time, I will accept it. I know you wanted your first time to be special and I cannot tell you how sorry I am for ruining it. My lack of morals and self-control is no reason to spoil what should have been a very special memory for you._

_What happened on Friday night was inexcusable and unforgivable and I only hope you will find it in your heart to forget this and not hate me._

_Because, Gou, you were my friend and that is a relationship I treasure more than you know._

_Don't be a stranger._

_Love,_

_Kisumi_

..

Reading this email was nothing short of torture for Gou because her phone beeped at 12 AM sharp and she knew before she even flipped open her phone that it was him. If she remembered correctly his flight was scheduled to depart first thing in the morning.

When she read the familiar email address – **kiss-me@gmail.com** – mixed feelings flooded her mind. "Who is it?" Rin asks sleepily from the bed beside hers.

"Hana-chan's going through a break up," she lies and she hopes he doesn't see the single tear glistening across her cheeks. Because even though she knows it's irrational – she's the one who's been ignoring him after all – the words  _forget_ and  _friend_ grate against her raw heart full with images of that night, rank with alcohol and loveless passion, and her first and darkest mistake.

He was right though. A biggest part of her guilt was the inability or her to accept the weight of what she had done. To others, it may just be sex, a common teenage indulgence, but Gou had yet to let go of many of her childlike notions. Small, deep confessions she had shared with him one evening on their walk back from the gym.

She had always thought her first time would be special. In her mind she would bare her body only after she had bared her soul and that, only to the one whom she would love beyond all reason, the one whom she would spend her entire life loving.

It had never occurred to her that her first time would be like this.

It was nothing like the scores of romantic movies and books she had immersed herself in.

There were no chocolates and flowers and whispered words of seduction.

There was only alcohol, sharp and strong on the taste of his tongue, mingling with her own, only broken whimpers spilling from her own mouth when he took her, and punctured rasps of her name when she raked her nails against his back in ecstasy.

There was no adorable fumbling with each other's clothes and wondering how bra clasps and stubborn button flies work, only his expertise in dispelling with women's clothing and her desperation to have him.

She had dreamt that her lover would be patient, gentle, looking at her with concern when he hurt her and that she would assure him that it was okay, and that her pain would be nothing in front of her pleasure. But that was not to be.

Because when Kisumi held her body with an urgency that resonated throughout her, bending her, slinging her leg over his shoulder to take her deeper, she suspected he knew her traitorous body much better than she did.

But most of all there was no Makoto, like she had dreamt of too many times, only a man whom she had never expected, pale strawberry locks buried with purpose between her breasts.

There was no patience, no gentleness, only a furious passion that knows no rhyme or reason, a passion that had to be sated.

But it was hard to reach that satiation when she rolled over to try again, this time when the alcohol had cleared up the daze in her mind, only to be replaced by a far more potent, lustful one.

She took him in her swiftly, consuming, the same way he had done the first time, squeezing her within him and moving in the most natural, erotic rhythm that she knew. She had earned soft groans from his mouth, formed beautifully in the shape of her name and it gave her the most thrilling high, prompting her to go faster, wilder bringing them both to a place of which they could not get enough.

They kissed for what seemed like hours after, because even though this was nowhere near enough for them, their bodies are spent, ringing with the sweet ache that can come only from consummation.

The morning came soon, too soon, and they woke up together, moving with each other, inside each other, breathing the most pleasurable "good mornings."

He lay there, with her folded perfectly in his arms, lips trailing idly on her shoulder, so comfortable that he thought even Rin wouldn't be enough to make him move.

She bit back a sigh because even though they were just kisses, and they had done far worse, she could feel him stirring against her, a sweet pressure, and his kisses getting a little more greedy.

"You need to leave," she murmured forcing out the words because if she didn't start to think, she was certain she'd just happily stay in his arms forever.

"Why?" He asked this as if he didn't know the reason, as if it hadn't occurred to him that them falling in bed together was the last thing they should have done. But he was starting to forget those reasons, especially when he could feel her breaths turning uneven, her body subconsciously arching back against his erection.

It shamed her, the way her body responded to him, strongly on a primal level, made her cheeks burn when he played her like a familiar but well-loved instrument, wringing cries from her pouting mouth.

"There is no love between us," she managed in between gasps as his fingers worked their way inside her, twisting deep. "You know that."

He knew it and he doesn't need to be reminded because it's an ache that was better left forgotten, buried somewhere in the kisses he placed on her shoulders, her hips, and the tops of her breasts.

There was no love between them except for a flaming affection for a boy, tall and chocolate haired, with arms they've dreamt would someday hold them, soft, curved lips that would bear gentle kisses upon them.

It was a maddening fantasy, a desperate one, harboured equally by them both, one that brings tears to her eyes when she thinks of him.

_Makoto._

What would he think if he knew about them, together, in this sick, twisted way, with nothing but feelings for another that they shower on each other's bodies, not loving, but  _using_  because it is so freely given.

"Please leave," she had said again, weakly this time, when he lay on top of her, having emptied his fire inside her, panting large, open mouthed kisses against her lips. His mouth curved into a smile against hers, a smile that for once wasn't mocking or flirtatious, a smile that shared her sadness, understood it, like only someone who had felt it themselves would.

"You know," he said, wryly, having buttoned himself and disposed of the used condoms, looking so wonderfully just-fucked, "this is the first time for me."

She had reared her head from her comforter haven, carmine eyes wide in shock. From what he had insinuated she had assumed he had had scores of lovers, male and female alike.  
He had leaned down to kiss her one last time before he left her. "This is the first time that I have stayed and someone has begged me to leave."

..

She makes it on time to the airport, only to witness a fresh round of tears, no doubt headed by the ever exuberant Nagisa. "But who's going to be captain now?" he wails tearfully, clinging onto Makoto's tshirt. They've been over this before and Makoto and Haru even made it a point to check out the new recruits of the swim team but the tiny blonde isn't so easily pleased.

"I thought we already decided on Rei," Makoto says, ever patient, calmly petting a hand through Nagisa's hair and prying him off of him in a manner which no one would ever consider rude.

"But Rei-chan's too serious," he complains, "and Gou-chan will force me to go on a diet!"

She watches the whole scene, antics that she should have gotten used to by now, but this time it makes her a little sentimental, the feeling that it wasn't just her and her invincible boys anymore, stinging tears at the corners of her eyes.

When it's finally time to check in and they've reached the very last of their  _last_ times, Gou is finally sure she won't be able to hold her emotions in any longer. It's almost like he can sense it, like he can tell when she's upset, or anyone is for that matter, because that's just how Makoto is, too kind and too compassionate to ignore anything. So he pulls her into his arms, hugging her tightly.

It's everything that Gou had always thought it would be, warm and comforting with the faintest smell of his aftershave. She feels small, so very small against his large frame and her shame only makes her shrink further. It was everything she had always hoped for and much more and she  _almost_ tells him the truth,  _her truth,_ that she cannot reconcile with the fact that he's leaving.

That every single day in school will be spent missing his well-formed torso and his soft brown hair and a voice designed to turn even the hardest of hearts into a puddle.

It's on the tip off her tongue, the words, the prayers, that someday she will find him again and at that time she will never let him go.

But they don't come out, her thoughts dissolving inside her mouth, because they feel  _dirty_ ,  _tainted_  inside a mouth that has known so much pleasure from another.

It seems even her touch is soiled and if she pays attention, she can still smell  _him,_ his distinct scent sharp and musky, so very different from the man in front of her, seeping from the pores of her skin.

"Take care of yourself, Gou-chan," he says warmly, enveloping her in his arms. She doesn't correct him this time, just tries her best to concentrate on the feeling of being nestled against the solid planes of his chest. When he pulls apart, he smiles at her, eyes crinkling in the way that had always made her heart skip a beat.

She wonders if Makoto can smell it, the clandestine odour of her debauchery. Would he still look at her the same way, kind eyes overflowing with affection?  
"And Nagisa and Rei too. I'd hate to think what would happen to the swim club if only those two were left in charge."  
She nods, going along with whatever he's saying, but she's not really listening, she's not paying attention to Makoto-senpai at all.

It hurts her, her entire being quivering with the weight of her tears solely because she finally knows what it feels like to be in Makoto-senpai's arms, and it had never, ever felt more  _wrong._

And that when he speaks and the syllables of his deep voice rumble through him and resonate into her, all she can feel is the most crushing sense of loss.

It's not something she can help but it pricks her that though he is warm, and gentle, and so very beautiful, at times it's almost like she can't take it anymore, she's already been _burnt_ and it's only flames of the palest rose that are to blame.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : Oh gosh, everything's just so sad right now. I do hope they sort things out soon enough…   
> Okay guys, I don't know about you but the serious lack of kisugou fanart/fanfiction is seriously depressing me.. : ( If anyone has any recommendations could you please message me? Either here or you can talk to me @ ramblingpug.tumblr.com
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to the organizers of this event! I doubt I would ever penned down this story otherwise. Hopefully I’ll be able to get part 2 and part 3 up soon.  
> I haven’t been able to find too much KisuGou fiction and I really really like the idea of these two together.. so I just decided to write something myself.  
> Tell me what you think at ramblingpug.tumblr.com :)


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